


Influenza

by autisticaizawashouta



Series: Gender is Hard 'verse [7]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fever, Gen, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, Seizures, Sickfic, Well - Freeform, also vaccinate your kids, inconclusive ending, it's a series come on guys i'm not that evil, kind of, mentioned - Freeform, non-binary characters, okay but like take your symptoms seriously kids, one seizure, there'll be a next part, this has been a psa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 07:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13946757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autisticaizawashouta/pseuds/autisticaizawashouta
Summary: Virgil gets the flu. It'll be just like any other time they've had it, right?





	Influenza

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i am not a medical professional and i know jack squat about hospitals, which you can probably tell.  
> this is the gender is hard 'verse, ergo, they/them pronouns for virgil are used.

Virgil was out, running a handful of errands (there had been a writers’ meetup, and they were grabbing some of the groceries they were running low on) when they started feeling achy. While they would be the first to admit that they had some back pain and old injuries that hurt, the aches they were starting to feel were definitely not the usual aches. Caoimhe was walking along beside them, her ears pricked and attentive.

They groaned while they walked back to their apartment. They had gotten their flu shot, despite how much they hated needles. They had gotten their flu shot and were still getting the flu.

Back at the apartment, they took care of putting away the groceries first before changing into sweats and one of their large, soft t-shirts. They put their hoodie back on and sighed as the familiar comfort settled around their shoulders. Caoimhe was waiting (somewhat) patiently for them to take her vest off. They did, and with that taken care of, she launched herself onto the couch and proceeded to wiggle into a comfortable position.

It was tea time.

Virgil’s go-to thing whenever they were sick was tea. It was the only way they could somehow manage to drink enough fluids while they were sick to hopefully help speed up recovery. Also, tea just tasted good. Especially peppermint tea. Especially peppermint tea with honey.

Peppermint tea with honey made, they retreated to the couch to curl up with the couch-blanket (they had a couple blankets relegated to the couch specifically for couch use). They set their tea down on the side-table with a little clunk noise and then realized that they had left their laptop on the counter. Caoimhe was already preparing to

The counter was just… so far away. Aches had already infiltrated most of their body, and it would be so much effort to just get up and get their laptop…

They groaned and stood up to fetch their laptop. They could at least get some writing done before the flu wiped them out.

By that afternoon, they had refilled their tea a couple times and the fever and chills were really starting to set in. Patton would be getting home from school… was it really almost four already? He’d be home within half an hour, probably. At least Virgil could look forward to affection. Affection would be nice.

They had been reduced to aimlessly scrolling social media when the key turning in the lock announced Patton’s arrival.

“I’m home!” he called, walking in and letting the door close behind him. He was carrying his messenger bag full of paper with him, and seemed to instantaneously pick up on the fact that Virgil was feeling under the weather, his body language changing from unconcerned to tuned in to what was going around- specifically, Virgil. Caoimhe had perked up at his entrance, and her tail was slapping Virgil’s leg. Patton slapped his own leg a couple times, and she launched herself off the couch to go greet him.

“Hey,” Virgil said, looking up from their laptop. They wanted to cringe- that came out a lot more pathetic than they would’ve preferred.

“Hey Virge!” Patton replied, setting his messenger bag down on the counter. “How are you?”

“I’m pretty sure I have the flu and my body feels like a raging dumpsterfire, but other than that, I am startlingly okay.”

“Oh no! Do you have a fever?” Patton asked, looking around.

Virgil pointed at the thermometer on the side table. “Yeah. It’s still pretty low, though. And yes, I’ve taken some tylenol.”

“Well you’ve certainly got it in hand!” Patton said. His worry appeared to have faded- he was smiling brightly, although there was still worry in his eyes. “Is there anything you need right now?”

Virgil looked at their empty tea glass. After a year and a half of cohabitation, Patton knew about the tea. Virgil didn’t even need to say a word.

“How much tea have you already had?” he asked.

“This’ll be the fourth?” Virgil offered, ducking their head and rubbing the back of their neck with a hand.

Patton chuckled. “I guess you could say you’re anxie-tea right now.”

Virgil groaned.

“Oh, that’s terrible,” they said.

“Don’t you mean tea-rrible?” Patton replied, bringing a glass of tea over to Virgil, who groaned again.

“I guess I did,” they replied, accepting the glass of tea. “Thank you.” They wrapped their hands around it, letting the warmth sink into them.

The fever didn’t get much worse that evening. Virgil mostly hung out on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and occasionally sat on by Caoimhe while Patton graded homework. It was laid-back, and while they would much rather not have the fever and chills and aches, it wasn’t a bad evening by any stretch of the imagination.

The next morning, Patton spent a lot of time dithering while getting ready for work.

“Patton, just go to work,” Virgil said from their spot on the couch, rolling their eyes at the other enby as he puttered around the kitchen.

“Okay, but what if your fever gets worse?” Patton asked.

“Then I’ll take more Tylenol and text you,” Virgil replied. “Go to work. The kids might miss you.”

“The kids!” Patton gasped. “Yelena said she was going to tell me about her comic she’s drawing!” He rushed around the living/dining areas and kitchen, gathering his stuff for the day. He paused. “Are you sure you’ll be fine?”

Virgil sighed and ducked their head, hiding a smile. “Yes, Patton, I’ll be fine. Go to school.”

“Alright, if you insist,” Patton replied. He paused again, struck by another thought. “Are you sure it’s just the flu?”

“I’m reasonably certain that it’s just the flu,” Virgil replied. “Now go. You’re making Caoimhe nervous.”

Caoimhe looked up from where she had been curled up on a chair, completely ignoring the conversation.

“She does not look nervous at all,” Patton replied, hands on his hips. He walked over to Virgil’s spot on the couch and ran his hands through their hair, frowning when he felt how warm the other was. “Keep me updated, okay?”

Virgil reached up and wrapped their hand around one of Patton’s. Patton held Virgil’s hand in both of his.

“Of course,” Virgil replied. “Now go to school. Those kids need you.”

“You need me too,” Patton replied, squeezing Virgil’s hand. Virgil squeezed back.

“Yeah,” they replied. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Patton gave Virgil’s hand one last squeeze and then headed for the door, stopping to grab his messenger back and car keys.

“Have a good day at work,” Virgil said, and Patton turned around and grinned at them.

“Of course! I’ll see you when I get home.” With that, he left for the school. Virgil settled into the couch, laptop open and hopefully some writing would be accomplished and hopefully it wouldn’t be too incoherent.

Caoimhe, over on her chair, had started giving Virgil the Sad Puppy Eyes of Doom. Virgil sighed, smiled, and patted the back of the couch. She took this invitation and leapt onto the couch, curling up at the end while shoving her head in-between their feet.

The fever, which had chilled out overnight, worsened over the day. The morning wasn’t so bad- Virgil had a few chills and a developing headache. It didn’t feel like anything other than the flu- maybe they would be down a little harder than normal, but sometimes symptoms were just worse. Nevertheless, they made sure to update Patton on how they were doing- small texts like “Caoimhe stepped on my stomach, send help” or “still doing fine” which they knew would help ease Patton’s worry. At least if he knew Virgil was keeping him updated, he could focus on the kids.

Eventually, Virgil had to give up on writing. Between the worsening fever, the headache, and the growing ache in their neck, not to mention that the light was starting to hurt, they just couldn’t focus. Caoimhe was picking up on their unwellness and cuddling in closer, her attention focused on them. Her person was ill. Maybe she could make them feel better?

Virgil smiled and scritched behind her ears. They sent Patton a text- “think you could drive me to the drs after work”- and did their best to relax, despite the growing headache and the fever.

 

Patton checked his phone while the kids were out on recess. Thankfully he hadn’t been scheduled for recess duty that day, so he could keep an eye on his phone and, most importantly, Virgil’s texts. The most recent one had been about ten minutes ago- it was just asking him if he could drive them to the doctor’s, which, of course. Virgil didn’t even have to ask. Of course Patton would.

He sent a text back saying he would and proceeded to mark a few math assignments while waiting for a text back. Normally Virgil texted back almost immediately, even when they were writing, so the eight-minute wait for a text back was somewhat worrying. There was a reply, though.

Maybe he’d have to leave the school early, rather than staying after until four like he normally did.

He could tell that he was being a bit, well, elsewhere the rest of the afternoon. Guilt gnawed at his stomach for it- his kids deserved his whole attention, and he wasn’t giving it to them- but he was also worried. It was like a dark hole in his chest, this foreboding whisper of  _ what if they’re not okay _ and  _ what if it’s more serious than the flu _ .

His kids were picking up on it, too. While they were packing up to go, Payton, a red-headed girl with a purple streak in her hair and dirty knees, walked up to him.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Sanders?” she asked, holding her book-  _ A Dangerous Path _ \- close to her chest. “You look kinda like Rere does when Nanti’s sick again.”

Patton smiled at her. Children were  _ astute _ . “You’re very smart, Payton. My best friend is sick and I’m a little worried about them.”

“Oh,” Payton replied. She looked serious for a moment, and then brightened up again. “Well, when me or Nanti are sick, Rere reads to us! You could read to them and that would help!”

“No, you need to give them chicken soup!” Tavin exclaimed, his whole body bouncing with enthusiasm. “Mama always gives me chicken soup when I’m sick!”

Tavin and Payton set off a chain reaction, and the entire class was suddenly offering Patton advice about how to take care of Virgil. Patton, of course, being the good adult he was, seriously took each piece of advice into consideration, thanking the kids for their advice.

It was 3:20 and he still had several students waiting to be picked up. An anxious energy thrummed through his veins. Kit Picardy, the other fifth grade teacher, was watching him with an assessing look. She could probably tell that he was a little off.

She approached him.

“Hey, Patton, you’re acting a little antsy,” she said. “Lane and I could keep an eye on the rest of your kids if you need to go.”

“Oh my gosh, Kit, thank you so much,” he said. He could weep with relief- he’d be able to go home and Virgil would be able to get to the doctor sooner.

“No problem,” Kit replied, adding a shrug. “Just… do you mind me asking what’s going on?”

“Virgil’s sick and needs a ride to the doctor’s,” Patton replied, smiling at Kit.

“Okay, well, I hope it all turns out okay,” she replied, waving him off. He waved back as he headed to his classroom to grab his stuff.

His thoughts were distracted while he was driving home which, well, wasn’t good, considering he was  _ driving _ . The worry in his chest and throat was wrong. Virgil would be fine. They’d go to the doctor’s office, and everything would be fine. He was being over emotional again, his worry over exaggerating how bad it actually was.

He parked his car in his parking space and headed up to his apartment. Virgil would just be hanging out on the couch. They’d be okay. Feverish and sick and achy, but okay.

He put his key in the lock. Sounds from inside told him that Caoimhe was running over to the door. Okay, that wasn’t exactly abnormal.

He opened the door, and Caoimhe was there and insistently herding him inside. Okay. That didn’t necessarily mean that Virgil was super sick. Maybe they had just had a panic attack?

The inside of the apartment was dusky. The lights were off, the blinds were closed, and as Patton walked into the living room, herded by Caoimhe, he could see Virgil on the couch. They… didn’t look good.

Patton dropped everything onto the counter and rushed over to Virgil, who was starting to rouse.

“Hey, Virge,” Patton said, dropping down into a crouch and putting his hand on Virgil’s forehead. He did not like how hot his best friend felt.

Virgil stirred, looking up at Patton through glassy eyes. “Hey Pat,” they said.

“What was your temperature the last time you checked?” Patton asked, reaching for the thermometer on the side table. There was an empty tea glass there. It looked like it hadn’t had liquids in it for several hours, which was odd, considering how much tea Virgil had a habit of consuming while they were sick.

“Uh,” Virgil replied, biting their lip while they thought. “I, uh, 102? I think?”

“When was the last time you checked?” Patton asked, turning on the thermometer. His heart was pounding in his chest.

“It was… It was afternoon, yeah, definitely afternoon,” Virgil replied. They groaned. “Oh, holy fuck, my head hurts.”

“Hey, let’s take your temperature, okay,” Patton said, brushing a hand through Virgil’s hair. They made an assenting noise, and half-heartedly grabbed the thermometer from Patton. Patton would admit he was hovering, and when Virgil glanced at the temperature read on the thermometer and raised their eyebrows, well, Patton didn’t like that sign.

Virgil handed the thermometer to Patton, and when he saw the temperature listed on it, he swore and dropped the thermometer.

“Okay, we’re going to the hospital,” Patton said. Virgil started protesting, but Patton was already moving: getting Caoimhe vested, thinking of what he might need…

Patton helped Virgil upright and steadied them as they swayed on their feet. They looked like they might throw up, and they weren’t looking around, scanning the world the way they normally did. They barely moved their head at all.

Virgil visibly recoiled from the light when they stepped outside, Patton supporting them. He paused to make sure the door was locked. Caoimhe was standing at the top of the stairs, attentive and tuned in to both her people and the rest of the world.

Patton helped Virgil down the stairs and into the car. They still had their blanket wrapped around their shoulders, and Patton had handed them their sunglasses to put on before they left the apartment so they were wearing those. Caoimhe, once she was in her spot in the back seat of the car, curled up and kept her eyes on Virgil. Patton slid into the driver’s seat and turned on the car.

He did his best to keep his focus on the road, but he couldn’t stop looking over at Virgil, to make sure they were still breathing, just to reassure himself that they were still there.

It seemed simultaneously like an eternity and like no time at all had passed by the time Patton was parking in the hospital parking lot. Patton unloaded Caoimhe and then helped Virgil out of the car. He didn’t even think for a moment about maybe letting Virgil walk on their own- he could feel them shaking, and jeeze, Virgil’s fever was over 105, Patton wasn’t going to let them walk without support. And Virgil wasn’t even protesting which was definitely a negative sign. They should be grumbling and griping about being mostly-carried like they were, the fact that they were just going quietly…

Carefully chained terror clawed at Patton’s heart. Virgil was going to be okay, they had to be okay.

They walked towards the entrance to the emergency department. The big red letters declaring “EMERGENCY” on the side of the building just seemed to feed into the fear in his chest.

He just had to not let that emotion take him yet.

They walked into the emergency department and up to the front desk. They’d have to wait for a triage nurse to be available- all three of them already had people with them. Patton pushed the surge of anxiety to the side. He’d deal with that later.

Finally, finally someone seemed available to see them. She beckoned them over and started going through the basic information while taking Virgil’s vitals.

Looking back, that would be when things began to blur. Some things remained clear- the barely there changes to the triage nurse’s demeanor as she took Virgil’s vitals. The soccer mom who started throwing a fit when she noticed that Virgil and Patton were being seen ahead of her son.

They were taken to an isolated room.

“If you’re going to stay with him,” the nurse said, “I’m going to ask you to not leave his room. It’s just a precaution.” She was wearing Avengers-themed scrubs.

“Yeah,” Patton agreed. He should’ve pointed out she was using the wrong pronouns.

Virgil wasn’t even really reacting to what was going on around them. Patton was clinging to their hand and Caoimhe’s leash for dear life.

The emergency physician started Virgil on broad-range IV antibiotics without even making an official diagnosis.

Was Patton in shock?

He was probably in shock.

He was there for the first seizure.

And then they were in the ICU.

He felt… stunned. Knocked over. It was just supposed to be the flu.  _ It was just supposed to be the flu _ .

“You’re going to be on antibiotic prophylaxis,” one of the physicians told him. “Even with prophylaxis, you may still catch it yourself. If you notice yourself experiencing symptoms…”

Patton was directed to a bathroom. He wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe to wash up. Probably to wash up.

Not much washing up happened.

Instead, he sank to the floor and cried into Caoimhe’s fur. She climbed into his lap as well as she could, and he wrapped his arms around her. Sobs ripped themselves out of his chest.

He was… probably going to take work off tomorrow.

Face buried in Caoimhe’s fur, he cried, wondering the entire time…

How in the hell did Virgil get meningitis?

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed it and i didn't screw up the ER and hospital stuff too badly. i don't have any personal experience so i don't know.  
> take your symptoms seriously and vaccinate your fucking kids  
> if you liked it, leave a kudos, and if you can, let me know what you thought! i'd love to hear from you.  
> with love,  
> Kestrel


End file.
